


The Princess and the Scoundrel

by raspberrylimonade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Star Wars References, matchmaker Allison, no supernatural, pre-Stydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 08:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9714239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberrylimonade/pseuds/raspberrylimonade
Summary: "I don’t really know you but it’s cosplay day in school and we happened to dress like couple" au stydia





	

**Author's Note:**

> At the time I finished this fic and posted it on [tumblr](http://raspberrylimonade.tumblr.com), this had been sitting in my drafts folder for the longest time. Almost a year, in fact. It was inspired by my drama club dressing up during a school event. Also, while I initially wanted Lydia and Stiles' relationship in the fic to be the "we're acquaintances in the sense that I can match your name to your face and we spoke like once, when our friends roped us into a discussion, but I don't know you personally" kind, but in the end I feel like in this final cut version they are less strangers-y than they were supposed to be. I would say it's how they would be in season 2, where they know each other through their friends but don't typically initiate conversations with one another.

“Alright. I, Lydia Martin, am very sorry for ditching you at the party to flirt with Jackson Whittemore.”

“And?”

“Do I _have_ to say it?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“ _Allie._ Stop smiling like that!” Lydia complained. “You’re not even mad at me, you’re just doing this on purpose.”

“Just say it, Lydia,” her friend sang. To a casual observer the brunette’s bright brown eyes might have just been sparkling prettily but Lydia recognised the mischievous glint straight away.

She huffed. “And for making out with your boyfriend.”

Allison grinned, satisfied.

“I was very drunk,” Lydia grumbled.

“I know,” the taller girl replied. “Which is why I’m gonna go easy on you.”

* * *

Lydia always thought the costume carnival was a bad idea. But Beacon Hills High School was celebrating it’s 75th birthday and the administration decided making the students dress up was an appropriate way to rise to the occasion.

She was surprised to see people getting out of their cars in various costumes, some she could recognise and some she couldn’t. She didn’t think anyone would take the costume party seriously; she expected to be the only one who came to school dressed up.

Lydia sighed, both in relief and a sense of _I can’t believe I’m letting Allison make me do this._

She grabbed her purse and the pool of fabric on her shotgun seat as she stepped out of her car before shrugging the material over her shoulders. Allison’s mother had tailored the heavy cloth with embroidered patterns into a sleeveless cloak that fell to Lydia’s ankles. The cream colour offset the reddish-brown of her attire underneath: a new dress Allison bought for her, and a pair of skinny-cut pants Lydia already owned.

Allison was waiting for her below the steps leading up to the school doors. Lydia surveyed her friend’s outfit. Black jacket over a black tank top and black jeans, paired with black boots.

“You don’t look very different,” she remarked.

Allison grinned and pulled up her jacket sleeve as an answer. A swirling black symbol had been painted on her arm. “I’m Allison Lightwood today.“

She turned around so Lydia could see another swirl sticking out of her collar behind her neck.

"I brought a bow too, but I’m not sure if it’ll be confiscated as a ‘weapon’,” the brunette continued. “I’ve stuffed it in my bag.”

“You’re nationally ranked in archery and trained in mixed martial arts,” Lydia informed her. “Everything you hold could be a weapon. Now can you tell me who I’m dressed as?”

Allison just grinned slyly and motioned to the double doors. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

* * *

Soon enough turned out to be four minutes before first period. She strolled into the classroom, spotting Danny, back to her at the far end of the classroom, and made a beeline for him. It was only when she reached the last column of desks did she realise who Danny was talking to.

He just had to angle his body to face right down the row. Tall, lanky, grown out hair a spiked nest on his head. His eyes landed on her as she approached, and he trailed off in his argument about a falcon and an enterprise.

“Princess Leia,” Stiles breathed.

His two companions turned to face her.

“Stilinski” she greeted. Her voice sounded tinny, the realisation of Allison’s true intentions settling over her.

She swallowed and greeted the other two boys. “Hey Danny. Scott.”

Scott gave a tight lipped smile. The poor guy hadn’t really known how to act around her since she drunkenly came onto him at the party. He didn’t seem to be dressed as any character, save for the fingerless gloves he wore, which had three metal claws protruding from the knuckles.

Danny was head to toe in red, with the recognisable pixel eyes on the front of his shirt. Lydia never played Pac-man, but she recognise the ghost Danny was emulating. He gave Lydia a one-over, then plastered a large smirk on his face.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said, then reached over and dragged Scott away, leaving Lydia with Stiles.

White shirt, black pants, black vest-wearing Stiles with a holster at his hip.

Dressed-as-Han-Solo Stiles.

She recognised his costume because of the time he “staged an intervention” (his words, not hers) and made Scott - and the rest of their friends - watch Star Wars.

He was even clutching a furry Chewbacca toy.

“Lydia, wow,” Stiles was saying. “What a coincidence. And a surprise, I mean, I didn’t think you liked Star Wars that much…”

Lydia racked her brains to recall exactly when Leia had worn a costume such as hers.

“…even though you could also say we’re not matching, since you’re dressed as Leia on Bespin, and Han wore a jacket on Bespin instead of the vest he’s known for, which I’m wearing…”

“Breathe, Stiles,” Lydia told him, and he did, pausing his spiel to take a huge gulp of air.

Bespin, right. That was in the…second-movie-slash-episode-five. She couldn’t recall the exact details of the movie but now that Stiles mentioned it, she could picture the Leia character donning a long brown cloak similar to what she was wearing currently.

She looked up at Stiles again. He was jiggling one leg as he launched into a speech about who wore capes in Star Wars. His legs looked really long in those pants. Lydia had hung out with Stiles before, and she was well aware of how much taller than her he was, but she never noticed the length of his legs until now.

Wait! Since when did she notice things like how long Stiles Stilinski’s legs were?

“…most extravagant, over-the-top make up ever. Not saying she didn’t own each look, but sometimes, I dunno, less is more? You would know. Your makeup always look perfect, no matter how much you wear - ”

“My what?”

Lydia hadn’t meant to interrupt, but she was snapped out of her thoughts when Stiles addressed her again.

“Your makeup,” he said, gesturing at her face. Chewbacca’s arms brushed her nose. “Yours is always perfect. Not that you should always wear makeup, you can totally not put it on if you want. I was just taking about Padme - you know, Natalie Portman’s character - and how her makeup is always elaborate, because she’s the queen so she has to look presentable for ceremonies, right?”

He paused, and Lydia realised he was awaiting her response. She gave a jerky nod, and he continued.

“But you know, you don’t need too much makeup to look nice. Remember the school trip where you left your compact at that gross motel? And barely wore makeup for two days? You looked great. But i suppose the Naboo ceremonial make up has a certain significance…”

That was Stiles. The boy who had been crushing on her since he was eight, and who found a way to compliment her even while babbling about his favourite movie series. He was also Lydia’s best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend, which meant they somehow ended up running the same circles.

And he had really nice eyes that caught the light through the windows, sparkling because he enjoyed the subject of their (albeit one-sided) conversation.

The “Allison made me wear this” that had been building on her tongue dissolved. Stiles was genuinely happy to be talking about Star Wars, and she couldn’t take that from him.

Plus, he looked kinda cute whenever he talked about something he liked.

(She can’t believe she just described Stiles Stilinski as _cute_.)

* * *

Sometime before lunch, some junior had decided to host an impromptu costume party after school. Nevermind that it was a school night. Or evening, since the party started just two hours after school let out.

Pretty much everyone was attending. Everyone except Scott, who had work, and whom Lydia had probably scared away from all social events.

As such, Allison had been looking for company, and dragged Lydia along with her.

It was all pointless, really, because Lydia insisted on staying far away from the drinks, gluing her back to a wall. That meant the two girls had spent most of their late afternoon wallflowering in a corner.

It was when Allison went to the bathroom that Jackson Whittemore sauntered up to her. His droopy eyelids hinted at his intoxication, and his breath when he leaned in confirmed that for her.

He mumbled something about her trying to use Scott to get his attention. “Well now you got it. So drop the innocent wallflower act and tell me what you really want.”

“I want you to go away,” she replied, shoving his shoulder aside. She barely made him budge, but his faced morphed into a scowl at the impact. “You smell.”

“’Course I do,” he slurred. “Tis Hugo Boss.”

He stuck his nose high in the air and shuffled off, not without forcefully knocking his hips against hers as he went.

A figure replaced him as soon as he disappeared.

“What did he want?” Stiles’ voice demanded.

Lyda shrugged. “Why are you here? You usually don’t come for these things without Scott.”

“Allison asked me to come. Though I think I saw her slip out as soon as she saw me,” he replied, moving to slump against the wall next to her. Lydia groaned internally. Of course Allison would try to set her up.

“So, um,” Stiles spoke after a pregnant pause. “A little birdy told me you might be interested in Jackson?”

“He’s hot but no. I was being stupid last week. I just told him to shove it.”

She sighed, then added, “He’s not very nice anyway.”

“Oh, I’m nice,” Stiles said, angling his body to face hers. “I am nice men.”

Lydia stilled. She had googled the plot of Empire Strikes Back during her free period. “Is that a Star Wars reference?”

She didn’t miss how his face lit up as he pushed himself off the wall.

“You got that? Oh my god, I didn’t think you’d - I mean - ” He caught himself and lowered his voice. “It certainly was, princess.”

Lydia could not help but roll her eyes at the boy in front of her.

“You know Han Solo was kind of a jerk,” she informed him. “Whenever he addressed Leia as ‘Princess’ he said it mockingly.”

She expected Stiles to dramatise his offense and launch into a defensive speech about the character he was dressed as, but instead his grin grew wider.

“Lydi-a,” he sang. “Did you actually pay attention to Star Wars?”

“No!” she exclaimed. Perhaps a little too quickly.

Stiles’ eyebrows shot up his forehead, but he didn’t question her. He merely chuckled and ducked his head. When he looked up at her again, Lydia noticed his cheeks were tinged red.

He took a step back and bowed forward, extending his hand to her in a dramatic flourish.

“Princess Lydia,” he said, voice taking on a fake, posh accent. “Will you join me in partaking in the activity that was featured in the last scene of Return of the Jedi?”

“You mean dancing?”

She clamped a hand over her mouth when she realised her mistake. Too late though, Stiles was already smirking at her.

“Okay fine. I might have read up a little during free period today,” she admitted, and placed her hand in his.

If the grin plastered in Stiles’ face for the rest of the evening was anything to go by, Lydia decided maybe dressing up once in a while wasn’t so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who didn't get it, Scott is dressed -very minimally - as Wolverine.
> 
> If you liked this I am [raspberrylimonade](http://raspberrylimonade.tumblr.com) on tumblr and [stlnskissmartin](http://twitter.com/stlnskissmartin) on twitter.


End file.
